2014-08-13 / 7:46 p.m.

Last night, I lay down and reminisced on all of the joy that Mr. Robin Williams has brought me. I smiled, and cried myself to sleep at the notion that one man who could bring so much happiness to so many others could not find it within himself, for himself. He never found a context within which he could live. I thought that at sixty-three you'd have gotten used to being you. It's one of the saddest things I've ever heard.